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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27449764">how a heart works</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/eunoias/pseuds/arenspoon'>arenspoon (eunoias)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Eymere [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Frozen (Disney Movies), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Dark, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Crossover, Dark Elsa (Disney), Dragons, Evil Elsa (Disney), F/M, Gen, Multiple Crossovers, War</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:09:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,541</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27449764</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/eunoias/pseuds/arenspoon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In order to secure his right to Drago’s army, Hiccup must prove himself worthy of the responsibility and title to be passed down to him. The task was simple. Easy. Child’s play.</p><p>Hiccup just had to capture Arendelle and its Bewilderbeast. The Bewilderbeast being none other than Elsa.</p><p>(Evil!Elsa &amp; Dragon Hunter!Hiccup AU)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anna/Kristoff (Disney), Elsa (Disney) &amp; Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, Elsa (Disney)/Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III &amp; Toothless</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Eymere [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875130</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. to see the world</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WELCOME DEAR READERS! I know what some of you are thinking. Here we go again with another fic-</p><p>bUT I SWEAR ON ME TWO DIMPLES I'LL UPDATE THE OTHER TWO! (just not now.) OH, and everything is reset again (like <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25664707">OAOA</a>) and everything canon is not canon anymore. This fic will take place in an alternate universe, where happy endings (kinda) don't exist. I won't spoil the rest!</p><p>As for the characters appearances, Elsa's will be based on an earlier concept of her being a villain. You can interpret Evil Elsa as either the the blond version or the black haired one. I do prefer the latter. Maybe we'll be going with that. You're still free to interpret her however you like, and I'll try to keep her appearance ambiguous.</p><p>Hiccup will have a similar attire to Grimmel, with his hair pulled back <a href="https://www.pinterest.ph/pin/781374604080067912/">here</a>.</p><p>(Not sure if anyone's done this before, but here we go!)</p><p>Anyhow, here is the first chapter. Enjoy~</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The waning moon gleamed and shined upon the rough waves that buffeted the beach of Berk, its flowing tides soon disrupted by a keel burrowing into its sand.</p><p>Brushing past the shouting Vikings rushing over to the harbor for the unprecedented arrival of the foreign vessels, Gobber interrogated each and everyone of them if they'd seen Stoick's boy.</p><p>It was already past his curfew, and Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the third has yet to show his face. He promised to be back by sundown after he brings him a troll's head, something he had little success with, but he and Gobber made a deal, that even if he hadn't, he'd still come home to a nice warm stew as a reward for his hard work.</p><p>And yet, the blacksmith couldn't find the young Haddock in the forge, or in any of his hiding spots under the desks, behind the chimney, <em>everywhere. </em>He already scoured their entire house, but there were no traces of him even being there. The chances of finding him in all the chaos was becoming slim, but he decides to try anyway, figuring all the commotion would attract some curious onlookers such as himself.</p><p>"Hiccup?!" Gobber cupped his hand to his face as he drew in a big breath to call out his name, anxiety welling in the pits of his stomach. He grew even more worried when the alarms were sounded. "Where are you, lad?!"</p><p>There's a fleet of warships and its crew disembarking in their port, where armored men of different tribes and ethnicities trickled into their shores, the likes of which they had never seen in their entire life on Berk.</p><p>The Berkians were extra prepared by the time they spotted the mooring ships, as more approached their harbor. The nightly raids had them on their toes and on alert day and night, following the protocols and routines they've established in anticipation of a dragon attack. They were well equipped, well ready for any battle to ensue.</p><p>What came that night wasn't a dragon, however.</p><p>It was a man. He was at the front of his troops, wading through the waters until they found footing on land. It had been too late to stop them when they came within range of the village square.</p><p>Dragon or not, they held their guards up higher than they usually would, as the group of intruders passed the lines of huts and deep into the center of the plaza, paying no mind to the locals when they poured in to form a blockade.</p><p>"Who the Hel are you?!"</p><p>"Ain't talkin'?"</p><p>A clamor of questions were thrown his way, but the strange man was silent in answer. His calculating eyes skimmed through the sea of faces with little to no interest in them, until it landed on a particular Viking blocking his path ahead. <em>The acting chief.</em>He continued to ignore the taunts and glares and shouts sent his way, his only focus was on that particular Viking.</p><p>Spitelout, who'd been left in charge to overlook the tribe, brashly came forward to stand up to who he assumed to be their leader. The warlord easily towered Spitelout by a head or two. He found it pathetic that he had to crane his neck to see the foreigner eye to eye.</p><p>"I am Drago Bludvist. I am a man of the—"</p><p>He crossed his arms, cocking a questioning brow. "Just cut to the chase. State your business."</p><p>"Show me the chief's son, and no harm is to befall your island."</p><p>All mutterings and chatter came to a sudden halt. It was so quiet, that Spitelout could hear and feel his own frantic heartbeat hammering against his chest.</p><p>Spitelout's brows shoot up his hairline as it took him a second to process his absurd request. He shook his head, placing his hands on his hips all while he snickered at the threat that followed. It was a facade, the perfect cover to hide how his knees trembled in fear when he gazed upon their ships covered in iron.</p><p>"Heard tha', men? The troll here thinks he can come here and see the chief's kid," still, the second-in-command could barely contain his chuckles at how ridiculous it sounded. "Thinks he can take us on!"</p><p>The throng of warriors erupted into a hysterical fit. Their booming guffaws tore through the silence of the night, as they sneered and laughed mockingly at the expense of the man. It doesn't draw any reaction out of him, however.</p><p>Spitelout dabbed away the tears forming from the corner of his eyes at his lack of response, at the hilarity of his presence as he tried so hard to hide his intimidation. "Wha' a load of <em>nonsense!"</em></p><p>"Stoick will be here, and he'll kick yer sorry arses!" a random Viking hollered with confidence.</p><p>Drago's face lit up at the mention of the chieftain's name, emitting a soft scoff. The corners of his mouth rose into a wicked grin. He has taken no offense and was unaffected by their insults, by how they made fun of him. Their jabs did not reach his ears, and it all meant nothing but empty words as far as he's concerned. He had an<em>armada </em>at his disposal, so what's a little village against his overwhelming forces?</p><p>Beneath the smug face he was making, Gobber knew there was more to it than that. His guts were telling him this man's not the type to play around, and they better not treat his words lightly, for there <em>will </em>be consequences. He's definitely hiding something from them, judging by the way he carried himself. Perhaps it involved the gathering and Stoick, and—</p><p>No, that can't be. May the gods forbid it.</p><p>Stoick's coming back. He's sure of it. There was absolutely no need for them to worry. It takes more than a little fire to kill him, and they saw it first hand. He's <em>Stoick. </em>The man who brought down mightier beasts a thousand times his size using only his <em>bare fists. </em>He'd be too stubborn to die. He hated losing to a fight, and what he hated the most was dying.</p><p>His tribe had faith in him that he'll return, that someday he'll arrive into their shores alive and well, and his people will always be waiting. <em>Always.</em></p><p>They watched Drago mutter a quiet order to one of his underlings, who then rushed over to where they carried a box of sorts. His lackey bent down to open the oak chest; his fingers were quick to unlock it, lifting the lid to root through its contents.</p><p>Inside was an iron headdress battered and scorched in flames, missing the tip of its long darkened horn. He held the item up with his two hands, each on the two horns as he returned to Drago's side, and did as he's told, flaunting the headpiece for everyone to see. Splatters of dried blood decorated the bottom, an indication its previous owner had suffered a grievous injury to the head.</p><p>The man opened his palm to receive the item. "Indeed. Your chief is here."</p><p>The horned helmet was dropped, and it fell to his feet with a muffled thunk. Ashes spilled from the upturned headpiece, a mix of fine gray and black dust scattered and were swept away once it hit the floor. The dents almost made it impossible to recognize for those who once knew it. But Gobber could never forget a friend's helmet.</p><p>As it belonged to none other than Stoick the Vast</p><p>A gasp of disbelief left their lips, sweeping through the crowd as if it were a contagious plague, slowly realizing his words and what he meant by it.</p><p>"He is home."</p><p>The village was silenced at the mere sight of it. It felt like a wall of freezing water washed over them, drowning them, leaving them frightened and in a vulnerable state. What were they to do? Gobber barely managed to <em>breathe, </em>unable to come to terms with the fact that Stoick was <em>gone. </em>But this was no time to mourn. Not now. Not when so many were already at stake. They could lose Hiccup next if they didn't do something.</p><p>
  <em>Do something.</em>
</p><p>The blacksmith willed his feet to move, to do anything, only to find himself stuck in place, unable to lift a muscle as if he's under some petrifying spell. <em>Move, you stupid—!</em></p><p>Instead, Spitelout was the first to sprint into action.</p><p>His grip was tight on the hilt of his sword, yelling a string of curses at the man who murdered their leader, his brother in arms, his half-brother, no less. The hulking figure raised his left arm to cover himself from the sharpened blade, leaving the general in a confused state as to why the steel of his sword hadn't cut open through flesh yet.</p><p>What he heard instead was the sound of metal clashing against metal, as the man caught it in time to return the blow, splitting the hilt apart from its blade. His prosthetic armor glinted in the moonlight, peeking from under his dragon pelt, and it was too late when Spitelout realized it was a fake limb he had aimed for. The strange man had easily rid the weapon from him, grabbed his face with his large hands before slamming him right into the dirt path with a painful <em>thud.</em></p><p>"The boy. Give him to me." the behemoth of a man demanded again, turning to face the mass of Vikings, his stance unwavering.</p><p>When nobody seemed to speak, fearing for their own lives, one of his scouts returned with answers, informing him about the whereabouts of the Viking heir. Nodding, he moves forward again, through the parting crowd.</p><p>No one else dared to stand up to the commander after Spitelout's attempt, afraid they would wind up next to him, face first into the ground. Or<em> worse.</em> Drago's presence alone screamed terrifying power and authority, and one scathing glare could make the biggest of Vikings soil their pants.</p><p>Cradling his bleeding nose, the war general numbly lifted himself off the ground, scrambled to his feet as he swayed and staggered in the direction Drago was headed.</p><p>In the direction of Stoick's home.</p><p>Gobber was not about to let that happen. This man will <em>not </em>take Hiccup for as long as he breathes.</p><p>"You'll never take 'im!" wielding his axe in a cry of pain, an inkling of fear found nowhere on his face, Gobber charged at the stranger with everything he's got. His eyes stung in the worst way possible, tears blurring his vision as his footsteps thundered against the dirt. His feet felt like he was dragging boulders as he sprinted across, his limbs heavy with grief as he closed the distance between them.</p><p>Their invader turned at the right moment just when he swung his blade upward, where it was hovering inches away from his shoulder, before it could do so much as touch a stand of hair on his scalp.</p><p>Gobber stopped midway when he no longer felt the weight of his weapon.</p><p>In a second, his battle axe was still attached to his wrist with his good hand supporting it, and in the next, something had cleaved its handle clean off before he could even <em>blink. </em>Splinters fly in the air, and it almost got him in the eye had his arm not flung backwards from the force. The tail of an armored dragon withdraws from the destruction of his wooden prosthetic, seemingly satisfied with its work.</p><p>Gobber couldn't believe what his own eyes were seeing. <em>A dragon. </em>One that listened to their every command, and were there for them to control. And there were more of them. It was an advantage that places the invaders above them. A nightmare for the Berkians.</p><p>It was only then did he notice that they were completely surrounded, and all means of escape had been cut off. They were cornered, left with no choice but to obey the man's words, lest they want to set their own village on fire. The beasts had swarmed the entire isle of Berk, circling around them like prey, like <em>livestock,</em> as they descended from the sky, taking up roost on the huts.</p><p>The tribe was prepared to engage with them from the beginning, but there were dragons involved, beasts that were oddly… <em>behaved. </em>Tamed. It was more like they were forced under their submission, suppressed under the armor holding them down, straining the devils from ever using their full strength. An iron collar was clamped around their jaws, connected by chains which acted as some sort of leash. It hardly gave them any reason to attack at all.</p><p>Who exactly <em>were </em>they? What sort of power did they possess to have tamed the beasts? Gobber wouldn't want to stick around to find out. He had to get Hiccup. Hide him, under the bunkers and secret tunnels in the Great Hall before this monster beats him to it, before he could whisk him off the isle and never to return. The blacksmith and the war general tailed after the intruder, who appears to have located the chief's dwellings.</p><p>Soldiers flanked Drago as they marched through the plaza, the civilians fearfully recoiling and stayed clear of his path, providing a way for them.</p><p>Drago and his army had only arrived for a very short period of time, but had somehow managed to overtake the entire island of Berk in not less than an hour. Now this madman wanted them to surrender Hiccup. <em>Their </em>Hiccup, their talking fishbone. He had nothing vital to offer them, his scrawny toothpicks for an arm won't be any use for any heavy work, and he's barely in the age where he can even properly fend for himself. He's no threat to anyone, the sweet lad—wouldn't even raise a hand to harm a <em>fly </em>even if he tried.</p><p>So why <em>Hiccup? </em>Out of all of them, why did it have to be <em>him?</em></p><p>
  <em>He's only a child!</em>
</p><p>"He's <em>not </em>in there!" Gobber exclaimed in panic, desperately pushing past the man's entourage in hopes of finding the hut empty. This was the only time he ever had that thought. Hiccup, not there. If it were any other day, he would have combed the village only to drag his butt back to his room. Right at this moment, his face was the last thing he wanted to see.</p><p>"I only need the boy." Drago repeated, turning his back on them to scale the stone steps to Stoick's quaint home.</p><p>Spitelout and the others followed and flocked behind them in haste, brandishing their weapons in case the strange man does any harm to the chief next in line.</p><p>The door was violently thrown open, its hinges nearly torn off from the sheer force. Drago lets himself in, only to discover a vacant lounge and an unoccupied chair facing a fire pit, where a weakening flame flickered. His eyes darted at the loft, at the staircase for any signs of its inhabitants. Again, no one was there.</p><p>Right. Hiccup was out at Ravens point, hunting down the imaginary trolls that resided in the dense forest, the blacksmith remembered. It would take him a while to walk all the way back to his house. He won't be returning anytime soon. They just needed to buy him enough time, for the other children as well, to hide in the woods and flee to the other side of the island.</p><p>
  <em>Wherever you are, lad, run. Hide. Pray to the gods he'll never—</em>
</p><p>The sound of light, tiny footsteps padded closer. It was faint, like the soft pitter patter of the rain amidst a brewing storm.</p><p>"Dad?"</p><p>The blacksmith's blood ran cold, his heart sinking at the sound of the child's voice. His shoulders dropped in stunned silence, as if the sky came crashing down on them. Hiccup wasn't supposed to be there yet… <em>and yet…</em></p><p>With a wave of his hand, Drago motioned for his men to wait outside and guard the door. They ushered Gobber and the others away, pointing the tips of their spears at them warningly, preventing them from seeing what will become of Hiccup. Was he going to execute him on the spot? Gobber was on the brink of crying, his breaths coming out uneven, in broken sobs as the worst scenarios play over his head.</p><p>He inwardly chanted prayers, pleading, <em>begging</em> to whoever gods were listening to spare the boy. Through the crack of the door, he finally sees his tiny boots as he descended the stairs.</p><p>Then the door was shut.</p><p>
  <em>May Odin be with him.</em>
</p><p>The footsteps gradually grew louder until a child appeared from the loft.</p><p>"Dad? Is that you?" a six-year old Hiccup called curiously, his excited little legs carrying him to where he heard the sound of heavy footfalls were coming from.</p><p>As he hurried down the base of the stairs, he wasn't met with the warm and gentle face of his father, no. What he found instead was an unfamiliar face covered in scars and a permanent scowl on his lips. His dreadlocks were dark and fell past his face, his garments made in a foreign design, bearing a dark cloak over his left shoulder. He was roughly around the same height as his father, but wasn't anything like him.</p><p>He nearly tumbles over the last wooden flight of stairs, but caught himself from ever falling further. Hiccup's fingers curled into a ball, clenching a fistful of his tunic over his chest, and in the other a doll was clutched tightly to his side as he crouched down to sit himself at the steps.</p><p>"Do I know you?"</p><p>"No, child. You do not know me."</p><p>Was the man's reply when he walked over to the wooden chair and turned to face him; settling himself on his father's seat that seemed to creak under his weight.</p><p>Embers floated in the air like fairies and fireflies, the smouldering fire in the pit slowly shrinking as the seconds went by. Even against the diminishing light of the flames, the gaze of the stranger was cold, distant and uncaring. The meanest Viking he'd ever seen. He might not even be a human, for all Hiccup knows.</p><p>"Are you a troll?" guessed the small boy, studying his face closely. Trolls were said to be huge, strong, and scary, and he appeared to fit the bill. But that would be mean of him to assume he was.</p><p>When he saw the white lines and marks on his face, he immediately gasped in amazement. "You have a scar just like mine! See? See? Where did you get yours?"</p><p>An uncomfortable silence stretched heavy over the household. The strange man's face was blank, void of any emotions, his eyes fixated on Hiccup's. He swallowed a lump down his throat, and asked again.</p><p>"Who are you then, mister?" the child asked. "My name's Hiccup."</p><p>He paused for a beat, then smiled softly, something he never thought he was ever capable of doing. "My name is Drago Bludvist. I am a friend."</p><p>"A friend? Really? You mean you're one of dad's chief friends?" asked the young confused Viking. His dad mentioned nothing about bringing any of his friends along to the island.</p><p>"Yes— I mean, no," Drago sighed in frustration, at his inability to properly communicate with a boy several decades younger than him. "Well, yes <em>and </em>no. But, no."</p><p>"Were you with him in the gathering of chieftains…?" the tiny child let go of his shirt and wrung his hands, the plushie resting on his lap, hoping to hear any news about his father.</p><p>"I was there, but I am not one of them."</p><p>"Then… how are you any different?"</p><p>"It's because I know I am." the stranger assured him.</p><p>Hiccup tucked his legs and placed his chin on the top of his knees, growing all the more curious. "Was my dad there?"</p><p>"I'm afraid not," Drago replied in a low voice, and Hiccup simply nodded in understanding. "Tell me, young one, have you seen the world?"</p><p>"No, I haven't yet, but my dad told me he'll take me to the next island when he returns," he told him, smiling brightly, his eyes are full of hope. "He just left a little while ago. He's coming back, like he always does."</p><p>"How long is a little while?"</p><p>"Forever, I guess."</p><p>"I sail from island to island. I have been to vast lands no man has ever been," the warlord glided his hand through the air, as if the rolling hills and churning waves were there at the tips of his fingers, not far from his reach. "In search of brave and worthy souls to join me for a greater purpose in their lives: to liberate the world from dragons."</p><p>"Oh, shoot! That's why you're on Berk, aren't you?!" Hiccup deduced, and it didn't take much to put two and two together. "You're going to bring me with you, aren't you, mister? To see the world?"</p><p>"You accept my offer then?"</p><p>"I get to fight dragons, and travel the world! There's nothing cooler than that!" he shot up from the stairs, grabbing the stuffed dragon by its paw and swings the it in the air, punching and swinging his pretend sword. "Count me in!"</p><p>"Let us get you out of here first." he stood from his chair to pick the boy up and held him carefully in his arms. Soon, they were out the door.</p><p>"Will there be Night Furies?"</p><p>"There is a man I know who hunted them down."</p><p>"Does that mean they're… gone?"</p><p>Again, silence.</p><p>Finally emerging from the house, for what felt like an eternity of waiting, the village watched in despair as the man had successfully captured the Haddock.</p><p>His weapon was out of his reach; there was hardly any time to retrieve it, but that didn't stop Gobber from trying again.</p><p>"Gobber!" Hiccup giggled, his fragile hands stretched out for him to hold, for him to keep <em>safe. </em>He <em>promised </em>Stoick he'd keep him safe until his return. He swore on his life he'll protect that smile. He'll protect him from trolls and goblins and gnomes he's so intent on hunting. He'll protect him. He always had, and always will. "Dargo's taking me to see the world!"</p><p>Unshed tears glistened against the wall of his eyes, threatening to fall at any moment. The warrior's blades were directed at him, at Spitelout who struggled to get past the guards, determined to save his nephew from the horrible man. Gobber goes against every sensible thought he had, shoving the spears away with his shattered appendage, taking a step closer to the pair, wanting nothing more than to rip the boy from his arms and run as fast as he could, to a place where this man won't reach him.</p><p>And he tries again.</p><p>"HICCUP!"</p><p>The boy turned around to the sound of his name, recognizing his mentor. But why does he look so… sad? Hiccup had no clue.</p><p>
  <em>And again.</em>
</p><p>Maybe he'll be happier if he came along with them. And they'll find his father, and they will all get to see the world.</p><p>"Can we take Gobber with us?"</p><p>"We shall see, little one."</p><p>
  <em>Little one?</em>
</p><p>The old blacksmith glared at the taller man, which Drago quickly picked up on. "Is there a problem here?"</p><p>"Hiccup," he corrected in a stern voice. "His name is Hiccup." Gobber's eyes were nailed to the ground, sighing heavily. He wasn't going to see Hiccup anymore.</p><p>For the wee years spent teaching the younger Haddock, raising him like a proper Viking and guiding him in the arts of the smiths, he was going to lose his precious apprentice to this horrible man in not less than a <em>day. </em>To the very man who murdered the boy's <em>own father.</em></p><p>"Of course it is," the madman chuckled darkly, sending chills down the spine of everyone watching. He flinched slightly when the enormous man looked his way, and he knew he was already beginning to get on Drago's nerves. He glanced to where his subordinates were, calling them forth. "Get the boy. We set sail at once."</p><p>"What if my dad comes back? Or are you taking me to see him?" again, Hiccup's question goes unanswered. Drago's goons complied as he wordlessly hands the kid over and lets him go.</p><p>Blood raced in Gobber's ears, his face flaring with anger again. "I won't let scum like you take him!"</p><p>"And his caretaker as well."</p><p>"Yes, sir."</p><p>Everything falls silent. The Berkians helplessly spectated, basically held at knifepoint, what with all the dragons breathing down on their necks, feeling hopeless and frustrated having done nothing about it.</p><p>And all Gobber could do was watch them disappear down the slope of the hill, the hilt of spears poked at his back, prompting him to shortly follow. He could feel his knees about to give away from the combined exhaustion and all the fruitless running and searching that night. He feels pathetic. <em>Useless.</em></p><p>Their procession back to the ships was quick and the hunters wasted no time when they saw Drago, hurrying to hoist the sails and draw the anchor to ready for their departure.</p><p>"I will give him everything he wants and all that he would ever need. I am a generous man." Drago promised, his back turned on him as they ascended the ship on a dinghy.</p><p>Gobber's eyes warily flitted over to the commander as he spoke. It's almost impossible to look him straight in the eye, much less his person, even with his back facing him. He hated how the madman made it sound as if Hiccup was being saved from the mediocrity of his life on Berk, that he and Stoick failed to provide for his everyday needs, failed to <em>care</em> for him.</p><p>His glare was burning holes at his head. Then the warlord resumes his speech once they were on deck.</p><p>"He will lead my army into greatness, for he is the son of a great man."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Every time I write drago calling Hiccup little one, i sWEAR I HEAR THANOS. But why would he call Stoick a great man without any hard feelings? Spitelout and Stoick are half-brothers? Why am I asking you this-</p><p>But, seriously, why another fic, you ask? Well, after writing <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25664707"><i>only an ocean away</i></a>, I had this inspiration. While I thought it was fun playing with the idea that Hiccup became a hunter, something else crossed my mind. What if we explored the opposite or evil versions of themselves?</p><p>(Dw about the 2 other fics, I'm in the process of editing and revising the next updates!) I think this would be the last fic I'll post in a while, until I get the next chapters out for the other two.</p><p>(Oh, and if anyone is curious about Hiccup's appearance, you can search "Dragon Hunter Hiccup", the artist is byEIEIEI. As for evil Elsa's concept, it was mostly inspired by arts commissioned by ForteEXEMaster)</p><p>I do hope to see you guys again in the next update! Always keep safe, everyone! Ciao~</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. prophecies of (c)old</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“A frozen what now?”</p><p>“A… A frozen h-heart—”</p><p>“That’s not how a heart works!”</p><p>There was a pause for a good several beats; confusion marring her brows.</p><p>“H-Huh?”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Grimbald!”</p><p>This made the man consciously touch his scalp and hairline, pulling out a thinning strand to check. Once he had confirmed his spiky locks were still very much there, he returned his attention to the annoying child perched on a desk next to his.</p><p>Now, Grimmel was a patient man. In his hunts, a calm, levelheaded mind would guarantee his victory, and he needed to keep his composure so as to not ruin his momentum. But this was not the hunt, he would remind himself.</p><p>Patience was still a skill required in teaching; something far more mundane than his hunts, but he had already lost his mind in the first two minutes.</p><p>“Grimmel, boy. <em> Grimmel. </em> Now, how hard can that be?” the famous hunter stressed his own name, his nose flaring in frustration each time he had to repeat it. He didn’t have time for this. He wasn’t <em> paid </em>enough to do this. “After me. Gr—”</p><p>“Gremlin?”</p><p><em>“Grimmel. </em>The Grisly.”</p><p>“Greasy!”</p><p>He gives up. It was <em> impossible </em>to teach the boy his name. This made him more concerned about how they’d begin with the actual lesson, which would most probably be a pain if he were to start it now.</p><p>Mirthful giggles filled their makeshift fort, the six-year old seemingly laughing at his frustrations. The Deathgrippers flinched when their master loudly dropped his head on the surface of his wooden table.</p><p>Maps and marked parchment lay there, and among the others were a whittled pencil, and a rough outline of a dragon next to a wobbly stick of what Grimmel assumed to be a <em> very </em>inaccurate depiction of himself.</p><p>Grimmel was flattered at the thought that was put into the gift, no matter how amateur it was. His only student put in the effort of sketching it for him, but he was still nowhere as good in making the extra effort to correct his pronunciations. Something so insignificant and trivial, yet it still peeved him to no end.</p><p>The parting sound of the tent entrance then prompted him to straighten his back and recompose himself. When he saw it was only the war chief that was Drago, he made an agitated scowl, with stress already showing on his features. It had only been a little less than an hour since their training started, and there had been very little progress on their second day. “How long do you intend to keep me from my work? Is this <em> amusing </em>to you, Drago? Hm?”</p><p>“Dargo bloody fist!”</p><p>This automatically earned Hiccup a good roll of Grimmel’s eyes. He supposed even the great god of dragons was not spared from the name-calling.</p><p>“He specifically requested for you,” was the commander’s answer, ruffling Hiccup’s hair when he stopped by in front of him to present another drawing of his. Drago lifted the paper, and in it was a scrawled figure of himself, and there was the smallest hint of a proud smile gracing his lips. “You were the best choice for him, seeing as you both share disdain and an interest in killing Night Furies.”</p><p>“Night Fury! Night Fury!” the young Haddock cheered as he chased after the lone Deathgripper stationed to his side once Grimmel had taken his eyes off them.</p><p>“Why give me the burden of raising him into a proper hunter?”</p><p>It was simple, really. Hiccup already had a mentor prior to Grimmel, but his methods were not up to Drago’s standards. So, he gave him a demotion; from being his teacher back to only a caretaker and mentor strictly in the arts of the smith and nothing more. “The blacksmith lacked the spine. He refuses to train him against the dragons, fearing he might die.”</p><p>“Find a better replacement then.” Grimmel couldn’t see how he would be any better. He had already made it crystal clear that he was not particularly content with only capturing dragons; rather, he was in the business of <em> killing </em> them. He only lives for the hunt, and how he <em> loved </em>every second of it.</p><p>There was no fun in keeping them alive and in containment, when he could have struck them where they stood. He would not be a proper mentor if Drago wished the boy to mostly spare the beasts only for them to become the slaves to his growing army.</p><p>“You are, by far, better than the best of my men.” and that was already saying a lot, coming from a chief who rarely praises his own network of trappers. Even their skills were incomparable and could not come as close to the seasoned hunter’s experience in the game.</p><p>“And what exactly do I gain from… <em> babysitting </em>for you?” there really weren’t many perks of being the future chieftain’s trainer, and he happened to be around Drago’s area when he heard about the prophesied child. Grimmel wanted to see for himself if he was as horrendous as they said he was in his early retirement, and before he knew it, Drago decided to drag his ass into this mess.</p><p>“Under your guidance, he will learn from you and you get the glory of being his teacher. He shall surpass his father in skill and in wit.” the warlord promised. Stoick the Vast. Hiccup’s father. The last known chieftain to Berk (or what remained of it), and a reputable man among their ranks of dragon hunters. One of the few Grimmel actually respected. And yet, he could not see any of his likeness in Hiccup.</p><p>Rumor has it that his father decapitated a dragon’s head when he was but a wee babe. And on goes his list of ruthlessly slaying the beasts without batting an eye. The expectations for this child were already growing heavy on his shoulders.</p><p>“Please. This is a <em> boy. </em> Barely able to properly swing a <em> wooden </em>swo—”</p><p>Lifting the halfway filled container off the table, whilst his new mentor was too busy regarding Drago to notice, Hiccup carried the concoction with both of his hands where its contents sloshed about. “No! <em> No— </em> Put that down! You will break it.”</p><p>Almost immediately, the hunter recognized the sound of his precious mixture dripping to the floor, and he wasted no time to confiscate it from the Haddock. Grimmel placed it back on his cartography desk, out of his reach, gently swatting away the little grabbing hands. He turned to Drago, further proving his point. “As I said: just a <em> boy. </em>”</p><p>“Come on, Griddle! You never let me touch stuff!” Hiccup complained as he gave up retrieving the shiny glass, closing his fists and continued to whine as if he was some sort of petulant child. And Hiccup was definitely still one.</p><p>The hunter clicked his tongue. Good thing his little trapper friend wasn’t anything like Hiccup, or else he’d lost his mind many moons ago. “Not <em> now! </em> I am having an important conversation. Be a good child and sit <em> still, </em>will you?”</p><p>“But you <em> always </em>say that,” he pouted at the ancient man. What could Hiccup do on a boring day such as this? He had no one to come play with him in their temporary base. There weren’t enough trolls to hunt for having scared them all into hiding, and Eret was at sea with his dad (who also happened to be Eret) on some important work business that Hiccup couldn’t care less about. “Could I at least play with the—”</p><p>“For how many times must I repeat this?” Grimmel exhaled an exasperated sigh, tiredness clear on the dark rings forming underneath his eyes. “<em>No. </em> The Deathgrippers are <em> not </em>your pets, nor are they your playmates.”</p><p>It was always a wonder to him how the child even managed to befriend the mindless creatures without wetting his trousers, running home crying in terror, or even <em> dying </em>from sheer shock.</p><p>Any sane person would naturally flee for their lives at the mere sight of the beasts, but that was not the case for Drago’s boy, who wouldn’t do so much as <em> flinch </em>in their presence.</p><p>“But it’s <em> so </em> boring here!” Hiccup whined once more, throwing his arms in the air, at the musty ceiling of their tent and its soot-covered fabric to emphasize his point. Hardly the ideal environment to keep the boy in, as much as he didn’t want to admit. His set of skills definitely did not come with anything remotely domestic, so he really couldn’t care any less about it.</p><p>Instead, Grimmel elected to ignore him and turned around sharply to Drago. “Where were we?”</p><p>The warlord simply watched as his adopted child swung himself on one of the Deathgripper’s tusk. Silent. “I want to go <em> outside. </em>Why won’t you let me go outside?”</p><p><em> “Because, </em> the ice witch captures annoying children like you, and will <em> freeze </em> you and eat you alive.” was his excuse. It was always a pain convincing him to go home, and Grimmel hardly had the energy for the hunts anymore, let alone chasing after a <em> hyperactive </em>six-year old.</p><p>“You’re wrong. The trolls in the forest told me there isn’t a witch yet. The prophecy—”</p><p>“Trolls do not exist, silly boy. If they did, I would have driven them to extinction already!”</p><p>“And I want to play! I want to play! I want to—”</p><p>Grimmel’s head looked like it was about to <em> explode. </em> “Fine! Go hunt some trolls. I’m sure there is <em> plenty </em>around, yes?”</p><p>“I thought you said trolls <em> weren’t </em>real?”</p><p>“Well, they are now, aren’t they?” he rushed over to carry him by the back of his shirt like a kitten, dropping him by the entrance of the tent. “Off you go to the forest. Take down some dragons while you’re at it.”</p><p>“Can I have my sword back—?”</p><p>“No. Be home by supper, or you won’t be having any.”</p><p>“Got it!”</p><p>When he was <em> finally </em>permitted to leave, he bolted through the tent in a blur and nearly tripped on his way out before he could utter a word. The second he was out of earshot, Grimmel pivoted on his heels to face Drago once more.</p><p>“Have you ever considered throwing him off a cliff?”</p><p>“Dragons will come and save him,” he replied. Not that he <em> tried, </em>but Hiccup was always protected by the beasts. Despite the headaches and migraines he gained looking after the young Haddock, Drago had no use to turn to those methods at any point in time, for he was much too important to him. “He is my heir. There is no need to dispose of him.”</p><p>A man with a good eye can see the desperation on his face. The boy was clearly no dragon slayer. He may have been the closest fit there is to the prophecy, lacking only one important quality.</p><p>“Here, my friend. I offer you free advice,” the ashen-haired man sat himself back on his stool, a sly smirk now on his lips. “Why don’t you use that to your advantage? If the dragons love him so much, why not raise him as a whisperer? Make them bend to your will; never mind the details to your prophecy.”</p><p>Drago pondered it over for a second. “I shall do what I must in the right time.” he said briefly before heading for the tent exit.</p><p>“Do you truly plan to make this… <em> Hiccup </em>your successor?” Grimmel managed to say before he could leave.</p><p>There may have been a number of things Drago and Grimmel can never agree upon. One of them was their choice of profession, and the other was entrusting his empire to a <em> runt. </em></p><p>“My legacy will continue through him. As foretold in the prophecy.”</p><p>“And you are still willing to listen to that prophecy?”</p><p>There was a silent grunt of agreement from the war chief. Grimmel scoffs at him, unimpressed. “See to it that the negotiations are made by then. I no longer want to linger in this… <em> cursed </em>kingdom.”</p><p>The vial he placed away had spilled a purplish liquid, which he unknowingly knocked over, tainting the area where a dagger was planted in between the fjords, over a set of runes spelling the word <em> Arendelle. </em></p><p>“The blizzard will be here in a few days. My men are almost done, and we shall leave soon.” he said finally.</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>Grimmel had never been one to believe in superstitions, but he knew the curse was as true as it could be. The prophecy for the boy was different; it wasn’t a curse.</p><p>He felt the frigid winds prickle at his face when he followed Drago out of his tent, which he’d usually brush off and grow immune to. This, however, had a dangerous bite to it, as if a block of ice was held right next to his face.</p><p>This wasn’t good; for both them and the dragons. They’ll easily perish in the extremity of the climate. It was a smart choice moving their base out of the kingdom while they were in the middle of discussing the details. It wouldn’t be long before the king makes his decision. Either he was with them or against them, it would be all up to him.</p><p>Until then, Grimmel would have to look after the brat for another ten or so years, or whenever he feels like retiring. Said brat had already run past the barracks, zipping through the busy vikings and workers, and finally going beyond the gates.</p><p>He seemed to be quite in a hurry, his doll now safely hidden and tucked away in his belt. He was running straight in the direction of the so-called Valley of the Living Rock. The realm of the trolls, as the locals would call it.</p><p>Trolls weren’t really real.</p><p>At least in that area (no matter how many times they claimed they were). As far as Hiccup was concerned, they were just tiny rock people. They weren’t big, or scary, or possess excessive amounts of gold stashed away in their little cave. They were awfully nice actually, which made it a whole lot easier for Hiccup to terrorize them. (Or they at least pretended to be terrorized and played along.)</p><p>Hiccup had pretty much scared off the entire populace of the valley into hiding, mistaking them for trolls on their first meeting. (Though, they insisted he called them trolls despite not looking <em>anything</em> like trolls.) He had sworn to hunt them down, after all. Gobber said they were real, and he wanted to convince his current mentor his dad (when he returns) that he and Gobber weren’t crazy as he claimed them to be. These rock people would have to make do for now. Capturing them, however, proved to be more difficult than he initially expected.</p><p>How Hiccup managed to find them was a little less complicated than what he thought. It was on the night they decided to dock and set camp by the shore after days of endless sailing at sea. For business purposes, as they would tell him. Vague details about alliances and negotiations going on, something he wouldn’t understand until he’s older.</p><p>Everyone had instantly collapsed on their own cots after a long week of wrangling untamed dragons and rowing through relentless waves. Needless to say, they were past the point of exhaustion to notice there were <em> very </em> distinct footsteps stalking closer and closer to their location. (If he could even call it that.) It wasn’t the same when dragons walk the earth, or when heavy booted feet tread on the dirt. He’d been trained to tell them apart, and it belonged neither to man, beast, nor animal.</p><p>At first, he thought it was a little tiny earthquake and it was nothing they should be too worried about. Until the rumbling sound of rolling boulders grew louder by his tent, which surprisingly didn’t wake the rest of the camp. When he heard rather <em> coherent </em> noises, he knew something was up. Someone was <em> there, </em> infiltrated their temporary base, and had the nerve to <em> spy </em> on them—on their great army. He knew he had to see where this was going and catch them in the act, and finally prove he was worth at least <em> something. </em></p><p>Curiosity had gotten the better of him that night, so he hurriedly snuck past the watchful eye of the (not so watchful) guard stationed for the hour, and followed the moving rocks through the twists and turns of the woodlands until he reached the very ends of the valley. The night sky was clear and lit in a plethora of colors, painting the landscape a soft blue. It almost felt <em> magical. </em></p><p>It was really warm in their home where there wasn’t any snow in sight, brimmed with talking boulders welcoming him, assuming he was lost and needed help returning to his own home. Some asked if he was the child in the prophecy. (Which was how he found out about the ice witch.) Some even asked if they can <em> keep </em> him.</p><p>What they didn’t know was they would be hunted down for the next several days. (In the most <em> adorable </em> way possible.)</p><p>They were far too fast for him to catch, and he vowed he’d come back the next day. And the next day, and another day after that. He didn’t give up easily. It became a game of tag to hide and seek at that point, which he really didn’t have any problem with. But…</p><p>“Shouldn’t you guys be screaming in fear?” demanded Hiccup, who slowed to a jog once he arrived at the valley of the rocks. The place appeared to be glowing and hazy, as the sun was already inching towards dusk.</p><p>“Oh, right,” Bulda, the first rock person he passed, stopped whatever she was doing in the tree shade and cleared her throat, rehearsing how she would scream. “Ah! It’s the hunter! Roll for your lives!”</p><p>This alerted nearby boulders, who ducked to safety and out of the little hunter’s way. Some headed for the banks, past the decaying logs and scattered foliage. Snow exploded in a flurry as he slid down a slope, landing on both of his feet, skidding to a stop.</p><p>There, he found himself before a river. It had frozen over, the surface was thick enough for him to run across. He was careful to remember hidden traps he helped bury in the mounds of snow, leaping out of the way until he was past the field of death.</p><p>It was almost a routine for him; after training, or whenever he feels like it, he runs off to do his daily terrorizing. And after that, he would go play with his new friend from Arendelle.</p><p>Somewhere, beyond the river, there he found the girl had sat where she usually was, in that same rickety old bench where he first found her, with her gloved hand flipping through the pages of the same old book. Instead of her red dress the other day, she was wearing the blue version of it, with her hair still plaited in the same style he was so used to seeing.</p><p>“I brought my dragon! See? I told you I have one,” he announced proudly as he raised the ragged doll to show her. He smiled when he saw her tiny puffin carefully tucked in her arms, honoring their promise. (Despite how mad she was at him.)</p><p>“Aren’t we supposed to be battling to the death by now?” with their plushies, of course. He forgot to bring his wooden sword with him and he had Grimmel to blame for that; told him he can’t have it until the end of the week for pissing him off. “Let’s go play in the snow, ‘cause I <em> love </em> snow. I mean, wouldn’t you?”</p><p>The young princess scrunched her nose, burying her face into her book, blocking out the prodding boy out of her head by focusing on the prints and words that made very little sense the longer she stared at it. She didn’t bother entertaining the question. If there’s one thing she knew about him was that he won’t <em> ever </em> stop asking once he started opening his mouth. So she does her best to refrain from replying, or doing so much as giving him a reaction.</p><p>It goes on for another two or so minutes. She had been like that ever since Hiccup pleaded for her to stay for more than intended. He was fully aware she had her lesson in the next hour, and he even successfully tempted her to skip for once. As punishment, her tutor swamped her with more work the following meeting.</p><p>Hiccup pouted when she didn’t utter a single word, afraid that she was still upset for missing out on the lecture yesterday. “I said I was sorry…”</p><p>“Can you keep it down? I’m <em> reading.” </em> There wasn’t a single second when he wouldn’t shut his mouth, but that was one of the few things she enjoyed about his company. Maybe just not now.</p><p>He smiled at what little he can work on from her short response, taking it as a sign that she wasn’t completely mad at him. They both knew she <em> can’t </em> stay mad at him—at her only friend outside her suffocating life in the palace. As a <em> noble’s </em> daughter, she told him; it was necessary to conceal her true identity as the princess.</p><p>“It doesn’t seem like you’re in the middle of something important, so I guess it’s not that important to keep quiet for,” he swung his legs back and forth, not far from the freezing bench she occupied. “Wanna build a snow—”</p><p>“I do not.” she politely declined, even though she would have wanted to, regardless of whatever his request was. Elsa remains adamant in completing the chapter, resisting as fiercely as she could.</p><p>“I was going to say snow <em> fort. </em>Or maybe a snow castle this time.”</p><p>A snow fort. That was new. And interesting. And <em> fun. </em> She can already imagine how she would carve its interior, as well as the outside defenses, and—</p><p>Elsa turned the other way to completely ignore Hiccup, going over the same sentence she couldn’t seem to move on from, no thanks to him.</p><p>And the young Haddock was not about to give up. He fished for any topic he could think of in his mind, something to catch her attention, finally settling with one. “How is she by the way?”</p><p>Her eyes were closed in thought, her contemplative expression hidden behind the leather bound book. <em> She. </em> Not her, but someone else. He may have been referring to her sibling. “Oh, you mean my sister?”</p><p>“Yeah. Is she okay now?”</p><p>One of the many things they talked about was their family. While she had her own set of parents and a baby sister, Hiccup had neither at the moment. Hiccup told her he was going to find his father in far away lands, and in his absence, he had other people who he considers as his new family. He always thought she was lucky having a sibling of her own, having someone familiar; someone to look after, and not always the one <em> being </em> looked after.</p><p>“The physician said her fever is going down.”</p><p>“Will <em> you </em> be okay? Do the nightmares still—”</p><p>“I’m quite done now. I better be going,” she pressed the book shut, pushing herself to her feet to take her leave. The princess had plans to go see and check on her three-year old sister later this afternoon, and other matters to attend to. “And so should you.”</p><p>“That only means you’re free to play with me now,” he added, bringing his finger up to make his point. “I promise it’ll be <em> amazing!” </em> well, more amazing than her slaving away all day.</p><p>She couldn’t see why not. But she had every reason why she should <em> not </em> go play with him. There are a number of priorities she needed to do, and visiting her sister was one of them, something she <em> won’t </em> allow to be delayed.</p><p>“Sorry, but I’ll have to pass.” she walked her way on the paved path, her book now tucked beneath her arm.</p><p>“That’s no fun,” Hiccup pouted, already on her heels as she was about to head back to the town. “Come <em> on! </em> It’ll be over in a—”</p><p>Suddenly, the air around them becomes decidedly chillier; his cheeks numbing and his skin prickling all over with goosebumps. He rubbed his elbows for any semblance of warmth, as his sleeves weren’t enough to keep the cold from seeping right through his bones. The nine months of winter in Berk could not have prepared him for the sudden change in temperature.</p><p>“It’s <em> freezing,”</em> she argued, gesturing at Hiccup who reflexively hugged himself to shield himself from the icy breeze. “You’ll just get sick. Go home.”</p><p>Stubborn, the viking boy still refused to return to their encampment. She was the only person his age, a new face who was interesting enough to spend his afternoons with. In the barracks, he only had caged Gronckles and Nadders to talk to. Back home, he terrorizes trolls out of their dwellings to catch them, but with not much luck. And the kids in Berk no longer hunt trolls with him anymore, because of several other reasons.</p><p>Majority of the hunters ignored him for the most part, having no time to pay any attention to kids like him. He understood that they had their jobs and a great many things to tend to; having quotas to fill, dragons to care for, and outposts to guard. That was only the <em> beginning </em> to their already tight schedules.</p><p>The locals weren’t particularly interesting, either. Eret was off at sea, and he had no other kids to play with this far north. (Not that he had any other friends besides Eret.) His stay in Arendelle was mostly uneventful, helping Gobber weld things in the forge, being his apprentice and all.</p><p>So, Hiccup began to devise his little scheme to make her stay a little longer.</p><p>“Oh no, a dragon!” he faked dropping on his knees, and his acting was spot-on.</p><p>His trick seemed to work as the girl fearfully searched the sky for any signs of said beast. She had been too distraught about the presence of the non-existent dragon, crying that they should have gone home while they still had the chance, that she didn’t notice Hiccup already plotting his next move. The girl helplessly crouched down the snow for cover; arms over her head and her stuffed toy close to her chest, making herself as small as possible.</p><p>“Get down!” she hollered at him, closing her eyes, praying for the dragon to leave them alone.</p><p>Like any good friend would, Hiccup took this wonderful opportunity to snatch the textbook peeking from the crook of her elbow. Elsa briefly wondered what he could <em> possibly </em> need her book for, until she realized she had fallen for yet another one of his tricks.</p><p>Rising to her feet, she found that Hiccup had already ran a considerable distance from her. In a blur, she went after him. When he allowed her to come close enough, Hiccup raised the book in the air and stuck his tongue out at her as she failed at grabbing it from him.</p><p>“You liar!”</p><p>Elsa shot a glare at him, and he furrowed his brows, wondering just what he did wrong this time. He only wanted them to play while they still have plenty of hours together.</p><p>“I <em> do </em> have a dragon, so I’m <em> technically </em> telling the truth; therefore, not a liar.”</p><p>“Hey! Give that back!” she hurried to get on her feet as he was already on his way to the river leading straight to the valley. He was <em> fast, </em> faster than she thought for someone as skinny as he was.</p><p>“I guess you won’t be needing this anymore!” he grinned, sprinting off into the forest. Hiccup was almost halfway into the dense woods seemingly growing thicker the further they ran.</p><p>“You’re <em> so </em> dead!” she growled as she tailed after him. She can hear her heart thunder in her ears, along with the sound of snow crunching underneath the soles of their boots.</p><p>They went past the humongous trees, with their branches sticking out as if to come and catch them when they were within reach. She slightly struggled to duck and dodge from the branches, while her companion easily breezed through every obstacle, every foliage. How does he do that? Her lungs started burning for air, and it was becoming more difficult for her to catch her breath.</p><p>She panted but still continued despite her feet’s throbbing. Elsa couldn’t remember the last time she ran this far at this pace, and he was already half a mile ahead.</p><p>Feeling out of breath, she balanced herself on the closest tree and placed her palm against it, the other closed around sir Jorgenbjorgen’s hand. Her friend laughed harder when he realized she was lagging behind and had stopped chasing after him.</p><p>“You’re tired already? I thought you were an athlete?” Hiccup chuckled at how bright her cheeks were.</p><p>“Where is my book?!” she demanded when she saw he no longer had the item on his person. Her book wasn’t in his hands anymore, so she looked and yet everything around her was a perpetual white. She couldn’t see her textbook or any signs of it anywhere.</p><p>“What book?” he asked, dumbfounded.</p><p>“You… lost it?!” she was completely flustered, and her hair now a mess; flying in every direction. “Help me find it then!”</p><p>“And what if we don’t?”</p><p>“We have to keep looking! My teacher might kill me!” and her grandfather, no doubt. In a panic, she crouched down on the ground, digging and grabbing at the snow, trying to find anything buried in it. “I <em> seriously </em> have no time for this.” she said through her clenched teeth. When she heard him snicker, she scooped a bunch of snow from the ground and pelted one at him in annoyance, narrowly hitting him on his arm.</p><p>“Oh, nice shot!” the boy cheered for each of her aims. Her face heated up for a second until Hiccup created his own batch of snowballs.</p><p>“Heads up!” he screamed but it was a little too late to get away from it now. Elsa flinched once it hit her in the head, dampening her hair. Not that the cold bothered her or anything, but her parents would be furious if they found out. Her grandfather most of all. But there was no way she was letting him get away with this.</p><p>“Oh, it is <em> on.”</em> she hunkered down to remake her own, compressing a generous amount of snow into a decent ball, now throwing and angrily aiming it at the boy.</p><p>“No fair, I wasn’t ready!” he protested as she picked up another one.</p><p>Hiccup didn't know how joyed she was at his apparent defeat, suddenly overwhelmed by the amount of snow hitting him square in the face. He fell backwards, laughing. “Alright, alright, you won.” he groaned, shaking the snow off.</p><p>“Get up! We still have to look for it!”</p><p>“Give me five more minutes—”</p><p>“This is serious!”</p><p>“Seriously fun!” the viking boy countered, his smirk gradually fading away once he saw tears forming in her eyes. He quickly got back on his feet, his brows furrowed in concern when he heard her sobs. “Is it really that important?”</p><p>“Y-Yes. They want me to be perfect. They <em> need </em> me to be, because I’m— I won’t be any good if I… if I’m not perfect.” the perfect girl they always wanted her to be; the perfect <em> princess. </em></p><p>Slowly, he tried to reach for her hand for some reason, but stopped midway when her cries grew louder and flinched, uncertain of what to do. “Why do you need to be so perfect? You’re already perfect the way you are. At least to me.”</p><p>Elsa takes in a deep breath, scrubbing at her eyes to try and wipe the tears away with the already soaking fabric of her gloves. “They will— They will send me off… to m-marry a prince, because there’s a prophecy about—” she caught herself before her tongue could slip, along with her secret, while struggling to get out proper words in between her broken sobs. “A-About someone with-with a… frozen heart will lead t-to the destruction of our kingdom…”</p><p>Hold on. Did he hear that right? “A frozen what now?”</p><p>“A… A frozen h-heart—”</p><p>“That’s not how a heart works!”</p><p>There was a pause for a good several beats; confusion marring her brows.</p><p>“H-Huh?”</p><p>“You can’t freeze a heart!” he exclaimed, grabbing her hand to place it on top of his chest for her to feel and hear the steady beating of his heart. “Wow, your hands are <em> so </em> cold, you could freeze your tutor’s tea with it—!” the viking boy gasped and jumped at the contact, but shortly recomposed himself. “But never a heart.”</p><p>“That… sounds like a plan,” as she wipes at a few stray tears from her face with her other hand, the corners of her lips slightly curled upwards. “I just might consider it.”</p><p>Never had he seen her cry like this. Or anyone else for that matter. It all felt odd to him for some reason, and whatever emotion it was, it made him feel sad. He wanted to stop the hurt, but had no idea how. And there it was again; the painful aching in his heart. He couldn’t imagine how much of this she was already feeling.</p><p>If only he could make it go away. If only he could make her feel all better somehow. In faraway places with just the two of them, away from whoever was causing her so much sadness; where they won't have to cry or feel this type of pain anymore. Where they won't ever hurt anymore.</p><p>“Wait, I have an idea! What if… we, you— I don’t know…” when he found his voice and had sorted his thoughts out, Hiccup cleared his throat. “Let’s marry each other instead!”</p><p>“…Wait, what?” she blinked a couple of times making sure she heard him right; looked at him as if he had just lost his mind.</p><p>“If you come with me, I'll take you to see the world! We’ll escape so you won’t have to face the prophecy—”</p><p>Her shoulders stiffened when she heard the faint echo of Gerda’s voice calling for her. Hiccup could barely make out the words, but knew the voice was searching for his friend.</p><p>“My nanny is here for me. My father and grandfather’s meeting is probably over,” Elsa told him, already straightening her skirt and brushing off the powdery snow. “I should go.”</p><p>“Will I see you around?” Hiccup asked, putting one foot forward before he knew it, before she could turn the other way, where she would vanish down the hill and he would never know if she’ll see her again. She hesitantly nodded, though not quite certain what to answer him with. “Let’s make a deal. Okay?”</p><p>“Okay…” the girl quietly sniffled, her nose and eyes still red from her crying.</p><p>“Here, you can have her,” Hiccup produced his toy dragon from the side of his belt, extending his arm towards her. “She’s going to chase the nightmares away. You can think of it this way; as long as you have her, I’ll always be with you.”</p><p>“But what about the dragons?” she carefully took the toy from him, petting the plush lizard’s head, while she had her puffin beside her.</p><p>“She <em> is </em> also a dragon, silly! She can talk to them,” he giggled, and she could feel her heart flutter. “But not all dragons are bad, they’re just… scared the same way we are of them. She’ll make you feel safe, and she’ll drive off the other dragons too if she has to, so she can protect you and your sister.”</p><p>Elsa could see how much it hurt him to let go of his beloved dragon. He told her it was the last thing his mom had given him when he was born. It meant a lot to him, as it was the only thing to remember his mother by. It was only fair if she gave him hers.</p><p>“Take sir Jorgenbjorgen with you. I’m sure you’ll miss your dragon,” she hands over her own plush puffin. He eyes it for a second, then cupping him carefully into his own hands. “They’re not rings, but let’s just pretend they are.”</p><p>“Oh yeah, we’re getting married…” Hiccup said and grinned sheepishly with a rather warm expression.</p><p>“When we’re older,” she reminded him, though blushed at the thought. This was only a proposal. A <em> promise. </em> (It was <em> way </em> too early for wedding vows.) “Is this also part of the deal?</p><p>“Kind of? But here’s the deal—we’ll keep these until next time. It’s kind of an insurance so we see each other again,” he paused, a little flustered at what he was about to say next. “Then, when we’re old enough, we’ll get married. Deal?”</p><p>For a brief moment, she stared at his open hand, then at his face. There weren’t any other intentions behind it. No false pretenses, no lying, no anything. He meant what he said. She knew he did. He had the sweetest smile on his freckled face, his cheeks red from the weather and the deal they were closing.</p><p>“Deal.”</p><p>Without another second thought, she softly shook his warmer hand. There was an initial shiver on the contact, but Hiccup gingerly squeezed her hand. (Which was weird. Doesn’t she ever get cold? Was she always this cold?)</p><p>“You can have your book back.” Hiccup then nervously pulled his hand away when she giggled at him, grabbing the book tucked in between his vest to return it.</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>“You’ll be here in the same spot, right?”</p><p>He wanted to say he’ll be there the same time tomorrow, and the next day, then the day after that. He knew he couldn’t give her an answer yet. Instead, he met her eyes and tried the best he could not to look sad.</p><p>“Even if we don’t, we’ll come find each other again.”</p><p>“Always.”</p><p>For a final time, they exchanged smiles, never knowing if they will be back tomorrow.</p><p>Tomorrow.</p><p>Why does it all have to end tomorrow?</p>
<hr/><p>Time seemed to slow around him at the last second, watching her with her back poised and chin raised. He wanted to play with her even for another hour more. She would have wanted the same; to be with the only one who doesn’t make her feel alone. To be there. To <em> stay. </em></p><p>If only they could freeze this moment and stay in it for however long they like.</p><p>Too bad her power doesn’t work that way.</p><p>
  <em> If only one day... </em>
</p><p>Dragging his feet back to the river, his previous energy half gone and still half there, a snapping sound reached his ears. He stiffened, chills running down his back. Was it a dragon? A deer? He wouldn’t really know.</p><p>With great caution, he turned around, risking a small glance over his shoulder to check what it was, he released his breath when he found nothing there. Slowly, he turned his head back to where he was headed, to see—</p><p>“Of all places I would find you, why<em> here?” </em></p><p>Hiccup was caught off his guard, landing on nothing but pure snow next to a hollow log on his sides, heaving panicked breaths. “Eret?!”</p><p>“Who else?” the older boy smugly raised a brow at him, standing next to his lying figure.</p><p>Cradling his poor frightened heart, the younger of the two wheezed. “How did you find me?! And when did you get back?!”</p><p>“Do you even need to ask?” Eret had always been known for his hunting skills from the moment they met, and he wasn’t exactly quiet about it; always making sure to bring it up to his face. “They sent me because you were taking <em> way </em>too long. Oh, and we anchored about ten or so minutes ago.”</p><p>“I was about to go back. I was just done playing—”</p><p>“Playing with who exactly?”</p><p>“...A lord’s daughter.”</p><p>“I see. You’ve taken quite the liking on her,” the young trapper turned to grin at him. The look Hiccup was making was <em> priceless. </em> “Absolutely smitten—”</p><p>Hiccup could feel his face heat up at the mention of it. “I do not!” he exclaimed in defense. “She’s my only friend in Arendelle! Well, aside from you.”</p><p>“Your face was <em> bloody </em> red, stupid.” it wasn’t a normal occurrence compared to when he was around Eret, whom he also considered as his friend. It was only natural for him to assume he sort of liked her.</p><p>“It’s because… it’s very cold here.” he explained, but he knew there was no point in denying it. He found herself actually crushing on her.</p><p>“You think I’d buy into that?” Eret son of Eret smiles cheekily. “What’s her name? I promise I won’t tell.”</p><p>“Her name? Pff! Of course I <em> know </em> her name!” he chuckled nervously, wracking his mind for a name to her face.</p><p>Without Hiccup even knowing it, Eret snatched the puffin he’d tucked into his belt. “What’s <em> this </em> supposed to be?” asked the young trapper, regarding it with an odd look.</p><p>His hands went to feel for said doll, which he last checked was still there, until it wasn’t anymore. He frowned, about to pounce on Eret. “Oh, that isn’t mine actually— Could you give it ba—”</p><p>In a fruitless attempt to get his doll, Hiccup’s booted foot falls directly on something <em> hollow. </em>A hidden trap beneath them. Spikes quickly arose from the pit, and another row descending from above them like the snapping jaws of a Monstrous Nightmare, nearly impaling him had it not been for Eret who yanked him by the back collar of his tunic, grabbing him immediately to safety. Setting off the trap and alarming the adults was the least of his worries. His priority was making sure Drago’s heir returned all in one piece. “You alright, Hiccup?”</p><p>“I’m <em> fine.” </em>he grunted, pushing himself up with difficulty all while dusting the snow off his tunic. He couldn’t hide the fact how his tiny body was still quivering from the shock of that near-death situation. He shouldn’t have been too careless.</p><p>“You’ve got one nasty cut there. That’s going to leave a mark.” remarked the young trapper as he inspected his wound.</p><p>Hiccup touched his cheek, where the red line bled in tiny drops of blood. “It’ll just scar like usual, and it’ll be cool…”</p><p>“Ah! Eret, Hiccup, funny seeing you two here,” the two simultaneously searched for the familiar voice of the warlord, who seemed to be nearby. And the first to arrive, luckily for them. “Haven’t you recognized the markers? Or were our instructions not clear enough?”</p><p>“Hey, Ragnar!” Hiccup happily chirped, nursing his bleeding cheek.</p><p>“They said that this was the shortest way back.” Eret retorted, disappointed that he’d miss the telltale signs of their own trap, the spikes jutting out of the hollowed dirt where they could have fallen in and <em> died. </em></p><p>“The shortest way that leads to your doom!” Ragnar warned them in a spooky tone, wriggling his fingers for extra effect, to which Eret rolled his eyes at. “Come along now, we wouldn’t want you guys catching a cold.”</p><p>“We were <em> perfectly </em>fine.”</p><p>“If that is your definition of fine,” the warlord pointed at the small injury their little prophecy had managed. He then lowered himself down, to offer the young Haddock a ride on his broad shoulders and climb up his back, which the boy gratefully took. Leading the way, Ragnar retraced his steps in a shorter shortcut, with Eret guiltily tailing behind. “We’ll patch you up back in camp in no time— Ah! Grimmel!”</p><p>They weren’t even half there, and a group of hunters and trappers met them on their way, all of which were probably alerted by the trap. And at the front was Grimmel.</p><p>The prodigy hunter was clearly disappointed to see Ragnar empty-handed. Hiccup couldn’t entirely tell if Grimmel was mad at him, too. Perhaps he was pissed by the fact that they hadn’t caught a dragon in weeks, and the first and only trap that had set off in a while was nothing but a false alarm. (Caused by none other than Hiccup.)</p><p>In one glance, Grimmel spotted the boy’s injury, which Ragnar hadn’t even considered bandaging it, or stopping the bleeding. In addition to that, the doll he so fondly carried around with him earlier was no longer in the clutch of his arms, or dangling by his belt. A question Grimmel would have to ask for later. “I take it that you had fun in your little run around the forest?”</p><p>In most circumstances, he would have found it dumb to hear him asking that question, but this time he knew he was definitely in trouble. The sharp tone of his mentor’s voice made him instantly flinch. “A little, I guess…?” with that, Grimmel’s lips were pressed into a thin line.</p><p>“The two of you are not allowed to go out like that again,” his sharp eyes made him wince, realizing that Grimmel was dead serious this time. “Do I make myself clear?”</p><p>“Yes, sir.” the two children responded in unison.</p><p>“We leave by tomorrow. Eret’s father found us a new island far away from the vigilante’s reach.”</p><p>“Already...?” Hiccup quietly whispered in surprise and shock, having known nothing about it.</p><p>“Yes. We’ll be much safer there.” Ragnar assured him, but his words did very little to comfort him.</p><p>Would that mean he won’t be seeing her again?</p><p>Tomorrow.</p><p>They promised, if they could, they would meet again tomorrow.</p><p>For the majority of their return to the palace, she couldn’t seem to get him off her mind, or about their promise. On the carriage, it was quiet, something she had grown unaccustomed to since the day that silly boy appeared.</p><p>Marry each other? <em> Seriously? </em></p><p>What’s sillier about it was when she <em> actually </em>agreed to it. But how can she refuse him? On such a great offer?</p><p>Almost immediately, she pushed those silly thoughts away when her parents were already waiting by the entrance, greeting her by the moment of her carriage’s arrival.</p><p>“Was the forest any different this time?”</p><p>“Did you see your friend again?”</p><p>In a matter of seconds, she was locked in her parents’ arms, her face smothered in their embrace before she even had the chance to think of an answer. They were together on the carpet, eyeing her carefully, checking if she was unharmed. They looked rather weary, Elsa realized. Anxious. Worried. For both her and her frail sister, she knew. That, or something went wrong during their meeting.</p><p>“Well, it really didn’t change all that much,” she said, now processing their questions. “And yes, he was there again. I never really had the chance to ask his name.”</p><p>“You can always ask when you meet him again,” her mother assured her, and was quick to stand on her feet. “Your sister was waiting for you all day.” she smiled, now gently taking her hand and ushering her eldest daughter to the nursery. Only now, her father didn’t accompany them all the way. Said he had to see her grandfather, who wasn’t getting any better any time soon.</p><p>Unknowingly, Elsa squeezed the doll she swapped for sir Jorgenbjorgen for comfort. Some of her family was sick and in bed, and she prayed for them to get well soon as they passed her grandfather’s room.</p><p>“So, who’s your new friend?” Queen Iduna noticed her new doll in hand, though didn’t ask where her original doll went.</p><p>“She’s a dragon.”</p><p>“Oh. She doesn’t have a name?”</p><p>“She doesn’t. He didn’t give her any.”</p><p>“Maybe you should ask him that, too.”</p><p>And maybe she should. It was only fair to give her a name. “For now, I think I’ll call her… Dragon.” because that’s what he kept calling her.</p><p>Her mother hummed in agreement as they approached the door to their nursery room. Iduna reached for the knob, opening the door for them. “Anna just took her medicine, and she’s still sound asleep. I’ll be with your father. And your tutor should be here soon.”</p><p>“Okay.” Elsa whispered back, careful not to make a single sound.</p><p>Gently, she sets the stuffed dragon on the bedside table to face her sister, the doll watching over her guardedly.</p><p>“Hello little baby, you’re a princess just like me,” Elsa sang, peering into the crib where a tiny baby barely had her eyes open, seemingly woken by her sister’s cold presence, but smiled nonetheless. “But you’re thinking <em> maybe </em> it’s a pretty cool thing to be.”</p><p>“But soon you’ll see that everyone expects <em> a lot </em> from you,” the girl grimaced, remembering proper etiquettes being drilled into her head, pages and paragraphs of table manners practically memorized in one sitting. “They’ll say that there are things a princess should and <em> shouldn’t </em>do.”</p><p>“But you and me, we,” she reached for her small fingers, where it curled around her own. “We know better.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ok. I have lots of mixed emotions about this. As in. <i>Lots.</i></p><p>But here's some thought dump. I did a bit of research and I can't get these out of my mind. I considered writing it on Tumblr but my lazy ass said nO.  (I might do it eventually, after midterms maybe. Or maybe not?)</p><p>So, here we go!</p><p>1. Ragnar is such a big softie! The movie could have fleshed out the warlords more. Alas, there wasn't enough screen time for either of them.</p><p>2. Also, I always thought Grimmel was a fusion between Pitch Black and either Jack Frost or North from Rise of the Guardians.</p><p>3. And a redeemed Drago story would have been interesting, like how the writers would execute that. I heard he was supposed to befriend dragons and change his mind. That really would have taken an interesting turn. Unfortunately for us, the movie can't jam it all in 1 hour.</p><p>Anyway, don't worry about Hiccup too much. Drago will not be abusive towards Hiccup. (I'm not very comfortable writing abuse.) Plus, he won't have the time to since he'll be too busy amassing his army, and he wanted his precious 'prophecy' to come to pass. Hiccup basically gets spoiled with special treatment, with everything he asks for handed to him in a platter (kinda like a prince at this point).</p><p>So, what is this prophecy? What did it say? Well, that is a subject for another update day!</p>
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